Young Writers Society

"I don't know..." She yawns,
She can barely keep her eyes open, maybe she should just sleep on him. Then again, that probably won't be very comfy for Damien. She lets go of him and turns to the direction of her house.
"Maybe we should go for a sleep first... If not, I think I'll need to go home." She sighs.
Emma turns around and looks at him hopefully.

Damien doesn't hear what Emma's saying, it becomes an inaudible blur as he stares at what he belives to be a shadow across the beach.
The figure just stands there, looking at them both.
Damien feels sick, he cluthes his head and feels the drops of sweat on his forehead. Does he know him? Is he bringing him home?
Emma continues to yawn and mutter beside him, but his eyes cannot move from the figure.
His breath becomes rapid, his whole body tingling.
Without hesitation, he rushes across the beach, the sand flying around him.

Emma, getting slightly annoyed with Damien again, crosses her arms and glares at his back, her eyes so piercing it could form a hole in his back.
"FINE! IGNORE ME! LEAVE ME!" She screamed at him, "I'm going home!"
She stormed off the other direction and started her to way to home.

Damien turns suddenly to see a distraught Emma storming across the beach, her arms flailing wildly and insults pouring from her mouth.
"Not again" He shouts over to her "You are the moodiest girl I've ever met. I think you better go!"
He sits down on the beach, and just stares at the sand.
She's gone now. He's alone again.

"Not again" He shouts over to her "You are the moodiest girl I've ever met. I think you better go!"
She stops dead in her tracks. Her hands curled up in a ball, her nails digging into her flesh. She turns round, her curly hair covering much of her face. Making her look like a mad woman.
"Maybe it is because I haven't slept in twenty four hours!" She screams at him,
Not able to take anymore, and being her lazy self, she drops to the ground. Asleep.